Passed Out
by nwrites
Summary: Waking up in the outskirts of Bangkok with no idea how he'd landed in a stingy 'All-you-can-eat' Mexican buffet was not how Tobias had planned to kick off his wedding day. Neither was murdering Zeke, but nothing seemed to be going to plan lately. Fourtris. AU.


**Part 1 - Fuck.**

 _Tobias POV_

Fuck

Fuckity-fuck fuck.

How the fuck had I let this happen? How in the hell did I think trusting Zeke would not end in a fucking disaster? How fucking drunk was I last night?

Fuck. _FUCK._

I run my hands through my hair for about the thousandth time, my thoughts scattered and my heart racing. I lift my head up and take in the surroundings of the '24-hour Mexican all-you-can-eat' buffet restaurant. It was hot out, the Thai heat was starting to make my somehow-torn-up polo, stick to me in ways that it shouldn't.

The 'restaurant' I was currently considering ending my life in, was far from the description of an actual restaurant. The tiles were a faded green, the walls and the grout that was once most likely pearl white was now a mouldy black. Flies circled around the slow moving ceiling fan and the food, and aside from myself, the only people in here were the shop owners.

A tune of a different language—my guess was Spanish, floated in the background of the kitchen as I sat at one of the wooden benches of the open-ally restaurant.

The anxiety was starting to finally take its toll on me as the last remnants of my hangover began to clear, at least the parts that allowed me to think straight. The adrenaline running through my veins wasn't the good sort that Zeke and I went running after. No, this panic sprouted in my hands and spread out to a threatening grip, like a vice, around my chest.

It had gotten to the point where a permanent crease on my forehead was beginning to form along with the crescents my nails were digging into my hands every time I thought of the situation I had gotten myself into. More specifically, what _Zeke_ had gotten me into.

I abruptly stood up, the bench screeching beneath me. The mildly-old looking man behind the counter looked startled as I quickly approached him. "Can I borrow a phone, or a landline, please? I need to make a call."

The man simply stared at me quizzically and I could practically see my words float into one ear and out of the next as he tried to comprehend what I said. Of course he doesn't speak fucking english. Fuck me for not paying attention in Spanish.

I sighed and started to make obscene gestures. I pointed at him repeatedly, "DO YOU—," I make a phone sign and hold it up to my ear as I enunciated my words, "—HAVE A TELEPHONE—," and then I point to myself, "—THAT I CAN BORROW?" And then before I forget to add, "Please," while putting my hands together and pleading.

It takes a full minute before the man's eyes widen as realisation dawns on him and he grins at me. "Ah, sÍ, sÍ!" He speaks with a heavy, burly accent as he gestures for me to follow him behind the counter.

A sigh of relief and gratitude escapes me as my face relaxes from its permanent frown momentarily. "Gracias."

He directs me to an old landline in the back of the kitchen. It looks so outdated that I'm not sure it works anymore. The man smiles at me before wondering back to the front of the shop.

I dust my hands on my also-torn up shorts and pick up the phone. I'm weary to touch it to my ear, but given my scattered appearance I figure that I went through worse last night.

Regardless, I punch in the numbers of what I hope to be Zeke's international cell and I mutter a small prayer and cross my fingers while the phone rings.

After what feels like forever someone picks up on the other end. I hold my breath. "Ow, fuck," followed by a groan which I know belongs to the fucker that I'm going to kill as soon as he's within my sights, "this is Zeke."

"You won't be for long, you—," I begin to curse but I'm cut off by him.

"Tobias? What the hell? Where are you?" His voice is muffled but I can still hear the confusion laced in his words. But before I can answer him, I'm cut off again by his gasp. "Where the fuck am I?"

After that I hear a loud thud and what I think is the sound of a cat screeching. "Zeke, hello?" Slightly worried for his aliveness, but more so worried because I would be deeply saddened if someone had bet me to killing him.

"Yeah, still here." There's a pause and by my judgment its safe to say that he's running now. "Wherever here is," I hear him mutter.

"ZEKE! I'm getting fucking married today and I wake up in a Mexican restaurant with all my fucking shit gone! I don't know where I am, I don't have any money, and I don't have a phone, so you better come find me now before I castrate you with a nut cracker." My voice has gone down to an almost deadly whisper. I want him to fear me now so I won't be so torn over the fact that he hasn't had enough time to suffer before I end his life.

"Oh, fuck. I'm sorry!' He whines, panic settling in his voice. "How was I supposed to know they weren't the fun type of pills?"

My eyes widen, remembering nothing. "You roofied me?!" I ask incredulously. "God, if you thought you were dead before," I shake my head, "I'm going to find you in hell and sacrifice you _personally_ to satan."

I hear him curse under his breath. "Okay, there's no need for that, you're getting married today!" Zeke says in a over-joyed and rushed tone, like he's trying to evade his fate. "We don't know they were roofies, okay? Look at the bright side," he said trying to make poor amends. "Text me the name of the restaurant—,"

"Text you? Zeke, I'm on a fucking landline. You know what that means Zeke? It means I can't fucking text you because I'm on a fucking landline, _Zeke_." The exasperation in my voice was evident, even to the shop owner who was staring at me with raised eyebrows. I quickly threw him a gracious smile before returning to the call.

More profanities were exchanged, more from my behalf given the circumstance and finally Zeke can confirm that he's on his way to pick me up with a cab. I suggested taking seperate cabs but per his instance, he "was not facing the wrath of Satan on his own". But the truth was, the girls may not have any Zeke left to lay their wrath on after I was done with him.

After a while the line went dead, and I let out a huff of breath. I placed the phone back after a few attempts of keeping it up right against the wall and gave the man at the counter an over enthusiastic smile that couldn't have fooled a lost cause. "Muchas gracias." With one last wave I step out into the crowded streets of Bangkok.

People scurried by, on bikes and foot mainly and the dust rose in their wake as vehicle horned and people yelled over each other in the streets where the sun shone without mercy. _God, the heat was unbearable._

Despite the sun's insistence for me to pass out under it, my eyes were alert as my hand shielded them in search of Zeke's moron face. As I took in my surroundings I had no idea how I'd ended up from the Four Seasons hotel to this run down part of Bangkok.

All of a sudden the breath is knocked out of me as I'm pushed forward toward the street and when I look over my shoulder with a murderous glare I'm surprised to see that it's a small boy that probably shy of thirteen. He looks up at me with wide eyes and backs away at my instinctive glare. "Sorry, sir—." My facial features relax and I offer a small smile before waving it off and looking towards the road again. The day had barely begun from what I knew and I was ready for it to be over.

I get lost in reverie of the other day when Tris and I had first set foot off the plane oblivious to all that happened only hours later and I'm brought out of it when I think I hear a familiar voice. "Tobias!" It's distant, but my ears catch it and I frantically look around in search of the delinquent.

As soon as my eyes settle on a visibly frantic Zeke waving like a maniac from a three-wheeler, my feet carry me towards him. My pace quickens and all too soon I near the vehicle, and without stopping I manage to grab onto one of the poles and swing myself into the back, pushing Zeke to the edge of the seat and almost out the other side.

Without even pausing to catch my breath my fist tightens and lands on Zeke's side. "You fucker!"

Zeke groans and surrenders his arms in the air. "Okay, okay! I'm sorry but I can't remember what happened either!" My narrowed eyes stayed glued to his face and I can practically see the humour gleaming through his eyes, he's dying to laugh.

"Don't laugh, asshole," I sigh as he breaks into fits of laughter, the driver looking over his shoulder to see the ruckus. I slouch into the plastic covered seat, it appeared that everything stuck to you in Bangkok.

"This is not as bad as your making it seem. Wait till the guys here this, they'll loose their shit—" Zeke's inability to see the down side of any situation was a stark difference between us.

My glare ceased his words. "You might not live to tell them."

He flashed me a weary smile and patted me on the shoulder. "This is your big day, man. Sure, it got off to a rough start but the day is still young and on that note— I, uh, lost my phone—," my panicked eyes tell him I'm about to go off on him again but he pushes his fingers to my lips, the creases on my forehead deepen as I remove them, "But! — this lovely driver is taking us to our hotel!" He looks at me with another hopeful smile and two thumbs up.

There is silence between us despite the drivers curses and gestures as he drives through half-built roads flooded with hundreds of people and vehicles.

I'm almost worried that I'll actually harm Zeke every time I look at him. It was obvious he was anxious himself. He kept picking at his nails and his knee wouldn't stop bouncing as he looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of our hotel in the distance. Neither of us knew how far we'd managed to wander.

"Oh my god, is that—?" Zeke gasps as he tries to get a closer a look at something on his side of the street. "Holy shit, it IS him!" I try and get a look what he's gawking at but I can barley see over him. That is until he grabs the collar of my shirt and tears it some more as he nearly pulls me out of the rickshaw in his attempt to show me what it is. "Look!"

I have to squint to make sense of what Zeke's pointing at, but when I do my eyes widen in disbelief and my jaw drops as I look at a figure visibly passed out on a bus bench, curled on his side with an arm thrown over his eyes.

I can hear the incredulity in my voice as I ask the evident. "Is that… _Uriah?_ "

* * *

 _This is the beginning of a little short story that's been sitting on my laptop for a while and I thought there was no harm in posting it and hearing your thoughts :)._

 _Hope you enjoy, and if you did please leave your thoughts in a review! I would appreciate it a lot (i'm not sure wether to continue it or not at this point)._

 _Happy New Year (in Aus) and enjoy :-)! ~ nwrites_


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